


No More Words

by skargasm



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8769508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: He needed to find the words to let him know that it was safe to mourn...





	

“You can talk about her you know.” Spike turned from the window, the sadness on his face illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window. It made Oz's heart clench to see that look on Spike's face but he hesitated, knowing that the blond had been heading out of the door to deal with his restlessness alone. Spike's face seemed to close down and throwing caution to the winds, Oz threw back the sheets and beckoned, aware of Spike's own hesitancy and searching gaze. He obviously saw what he needed to as he tossed away his duster, tugged off his tee-shirt and wiggled out of his jeans. “Ooooh cold!” he exclaimed as Spike climbed into the bed next to him, turning and arranging himself on his side facing the window. Taking the unspoken cue, Oz rolled until his front was plastered against the smooth solidity of Spike's spine, fitting automatically together in big spoon/little spoon. 

Wrapping his arm around the slim waist, he squeezed gently and shifted onto his elbow so that he could see Spike's profile.

“Sorry luv, I know you had a bit of a full on day.”

“Not like yours. Wish I'd been here when you got the call.” He felt more than heard the sigh Spike gave and wished he was better with words. He just didn't tend to say very much but now he found himself wishing he was able to babble like Xander and Willow used to. Of course, according to Spike all that constant talking would have driven him completely barmy within a week, but sometimes the ability to fill in silence could come in handy.

“One of the things I love about you is that you don't always have to fill a silence – you let me think. Not like Dru – she was always talking about the stars, Ms Edith and such. Course, she didn't always make sense – she was the queen of the non sequitur was Dru. Sometimes it was like going through a maze following where her mind was. An' only some of it was down to Angelus – seems like she was a bit of a verbal wanderer before he did his thing.” Stroking the lean chest, Oz rested his chin on Spike's arm, letting the silence settle around them, “Mad as anything was Dru sometimes – like a kid at other times. Darla hated it – found her so frustrating. I used to take her off sometimes cos otherwise Darla probably woulda staked her, especially after the poof turned all soul-havin'. Told ya how rough that was didn't I? Yeah, took a beating a time or two as well – was the only way to keep her safe. Thought we'd be together forever but then all that Sunnydale business an' that Chaos Demon – seemed to cause a bit of a rift. Think maybe we woulda got back together but then I got _my_ soul didn't I? And that would have confused her really.” 

“Why?” They'd never really talked about this, about why even after the soul and the chip was removed Spike hadn't gone back to her. He was glad – extremely glad that he hadn't, but still...

“Think she couldn't rightly reconcile a soul in a demon – the whole thing with Angelus pissed her off and made her uncomfortable. She wanted her daddy back but she thought Angel was a complete wanker!” That surprised a guffaw out of him and he saw a small, sad smile cross Spike's face. “Called it a nasty spark that needed to be snuffed out. Guess once I got my soul I realised that I didn't think of it the same way. If I'd tried to find her she'd have wanted me to try to get rid of it. But even though it wasn't what I went to Africa for, I fought for it. It's **mine**.”

“I know.” Soothing down the hard chest, calming as much as letting Spike know he was there.

“Still love her thought.” Spike was very still under his hands and he realised that he was metaphorically holding his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You don't mind?” 

“Why would I? You're mine now.” No hesitation, no worries at all. He was completely and utterly sure of them, no questions asked. 

“Yeah but - “

“But what?”

“You know, wolves are meant to be all grr argh about things? Right possessive bastards most of 'em.” He smirked at Spike's growl. “Can't think it's that you don't care – you that sure of me?”

“That sure of us.” 

And he was. They'd faced it all together – the sinking of L.A, working together to help demons and humans escape; finding that more and more they sought each other out during their precious little downtime. Theirs was a slow, almost old fashioned courtship and all the stronger because of it. They talked and discovered they shared a love of music and poetry; discovered incredibly similar viewpoints on love and loyalty – they'd slipped from friendship into love without realising it until Illyria took them both aside and told them that their 'misguided celibacy was making them irrational and therefore of less use to her'. They had to keep it low-key as everyone needed to be convinced of Spike's place at Illyria's side and it had served them well. 

Since bringing L.A back to the surface, they worked together as supernatural advocates, liaising with the Slayer to keep peaceful demons safe and ensure that Wolfram and Hart did not regain a toe hold. They had withstood the incredulity of the Scoobies and Angel's shock to be together over five years now.

“You loved her – she was your Dark Princess. But she was your past. I'm sorry that she's gone – for your sake – but even alive I know you wouldn't lie to me or leave me. Is that what's been bothering you? You didn't feel you could mourn her in case I got jealous?” The flush that coloured Spike's ears told that he had guessed correctly and tsking loudly he pulled Spike around until he could look him in the eye. “If not for Drusilla, I would never have met you because you would have died over a hundred years ago. However much I never wanted to meet her on a dark night, I am grateful to her for you. And Spike, you love with all of your heart – don't feel you have to hide from me how you feel. She gave you life and helped you become who you are today. Mourn her Spike – she deserves to be remembered with love.” 

The look of gratitude on Spike's face made him feel like he had said the right thing in what was for him the equivalent of a long speech. He watched as the beautiful blue eyes slowly filled and a single tear trickled down the beloved face. With no further words, and no need of them, Oz gathered Spike into his arms and caressed the back of his head as the floodgates of grief were finally allowed to open and Spike felt safe enough to weep and grieve for his loss, knowing Oz would keep him safe.

* * *

fin

* * *


End file.
